But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?

I also fear that nothing really ends at the end. Things just keep going as long as memory can wield its ax, always finding a soft part in your mind to cut through and enter.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

See, Cameron. The only things I care about in this life are me, you, Mum, Dad, Steve and Sarah. And maybe Miffy. The rest of the world means nothing to me. The rest of the world can rot.' Am I like that too?' You? No way.' There's a slight gap in his words. 'And that's your problem. You care about everything.' He's right. I do.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.

He's most likely robbing the bank as a paycheck on the world for winning the ugliness prize at his local fete three years running.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.